


Seize the Day

by AnneTaylor



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Fairshaw, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24036856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneTaylor/pseuds/AnneTaylor
Summary: Wymnbane wants Fairwind located, Light only knows why, and Mathias Shaw has been assigned the task.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51
Collections: Fairshaw Week 2020





	Seize the Day

Mathias Shaw, spymaster to the Alliance, had been sent on an errand. _Curse this business_ , he thought as he strolled through the crowds at the Tradewinds Market. _I have better things to do with my time than trying to track down Flynn Fairwind_.

Only, obviously he didn't, otherwise Wyrmbane would have seen fit to send someone else. Shaw ducked in and out and around the booths, expecting any minute to catch sight of the ex-pirate’s untidy mop of auburn hair. Fairwind had grown up a street rogue, prowling the market looking for unsuspecting marks.

These days, what he prowled for only the Light knew, but he could often be found conversing with the merchants and customers in the marketplace. A hobby of his, apparently. As far as Shaw had been able to tell, Fairwind was no longer in the habit of performing acts of larceny on the premises, a fact for which Shaw found himself unreasonably grateful.

He could just imagine what Wyrmbane would have to say to him if Shaw were forced to have Fairwind thrown in jail. Quite unfairly, Shaw thought with a scowl. It wasn't his job to keep Fairwind out of trouble. Or, it shouldn't have been.

But things just happened when Fairwind got involved.

There...on the far edge of the market. A pert auburn ponytail pulled back, dangling over a brown coat. The man turned his head and there was no doubt of it. There was no mistaking that nose. Fairwind.

He was conversing with another man, a seedy-looking character with long, tangled black hair and a cloak concealing his features.

A cloak? in midday? Flynn's larcenous friends weren't particularly subtle. Shaw paused to consider his options. If he confronted them now, he'd never find out what Fairwind was up to.

It would serve Wyrmbane right; he'd refused to tell Shaw what he wanted Fairwind for, only said sternly that Shaw was to find him.

Wyrmbane hadn't even specified what he was supposed to do with Fairwind once he found him. Imprecision of this magnitude deserved a stern lesson, in Shaw’s opinion.

He glided into the crowd as Fairwind and his skulking cohort left the market. Fairwind had a large box balanced over his shoulder, and his sword dangled jauntily at his waist.

The two of them wandered the streets of Boralus for a time, meandering from store to store, obviously trying to throw off suspicion and pursuit. Obviously, because nobody would actually be wasting their time in such a frivolous way, Shaw reasoned. It was a cannier strategy than Shaw would have expected of Fairwind, and his heart sank at this further evidence of the man's guilty conscience.

Or perhaps it had been Fairwind's companion’s plan. It wouldn't have been the first time the ex-pirate was led astray by one of his shady acquaintances.

Shaw allowed himself to close the distance separating him from his quarry so that he could get a better look at the man. Well-muscled beneath the cloak. A fighter or sailor, then? The cloak was ratty and the man's hands were smudged with dirt, but his boots were new and of an expensive cut. Shaw recognize the hand of a master craftsman in Stormwind.

A nobleman from the mainland, then. The breath was forced from Shaw’s lungs. There would be no reason for such a man to be contracting Fairwind's services. Nor to be hiding in Kul Tiras at all. _Please, let treason not be part of this day's events_ , he thought.

 _No_. He put the thought firmly from his mind. _I'm simply imagining the wors_ t. A character flaw, according to Fairwind, but Shaw had found it to be one which occasionally had kept him from making serious mistakes.

They ended up lingering near the waterfront and spent half-an-hour betting on crab races. Fairwind paused often to glance about himself and his companion was careful not to show his face.

There was something dangerously illegal afoot, Shaw would have bet money on it. He chewed broodingly on his mustache, trying to decide when he should confront the pair.

They left off betting on the crabs and headed south, and over the bridge that led to section of Boralus where the Kul Turan nobility lived. Were they heading for a rondez vous with a Kul Tiran nobleman? Or possibly a group of them? As Shaw trailed them at a discreet distance, he became aware that he wasn't the only one following the pair.

Three men, hired ruffians by the look of them. Well-armed and heavily muscled... They swiftly closed in on their prey as Fairwind and his companion entered Unity Square, completely oblivious to their danger.

An assassination, then, with Fairwind about to be caught in the crossfire.

 _Curse it, Fairwind...we will have words before this day is through_. Silent and unseen as a shadow, Shaw closed in on the three men. Hunters swiftly became the hunted.

A sword was pulled from its scabbard. Fairwind spun about, drawing and bringing his own weapon up to block the attack. The two blades met with a shing of metal that ricocheted across the empty square.

The other two man swiftly flanked Fairwind, who desperately shoved his companion behind him. The man's hood fell back from his face taking with it the black wig with which the man had been disguising himself, and recognition slammed into Shaw like the strike of a lion.

One of the two flanking attackers cut at Fairwind, who barely managed to bring his blade around in time. The other went for King Anduin.

Shaw was in motion with no conscious thought. A dagger left his hand with the speed of an arrow, flashing through the air to bury itself in the throat of the man threatening his king.

A second dagger followed the first and another man went down. Fairwind ran the third man through both shoulders and then both legs and stepped back, beaming proudly at his handiwork as the man collapsed.

Triumph turned to horror as he beheld Shaw bearing down on him, filled with a wrath so great it could scarcely be contained or expressed. Not that Shaw wasn't planning to give the latter his best effort. “What the hell, Fairwind..?!”

King Anduin hastily pulled his hood over his face.

“Bit late for that, mate,” Fairwind lamented, backing away. “Cow's already out of the barn. Err... but look...Mattie...no harm done…”

“No thanks to you Fairwind!” Shaw spat. “You nearly got my king assassinated! I'm going to have you thrown into The Stockade until you turn gray, see if I don't…”

“Under orders, mate,” Fairwind yelped.

“Whose orders?” Shaw stepped up, nose to nose, and glared at Fairwind.

“My orders, spymaster,” said King Anduin. He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “I just wanted...a little anonymity. A day off from my duties. From being stared at and followed about and constantly on display. I'm sorry, Flynn. I almost got you killed. Master Shaw is right. It was irresponsible of me.”

“Aww, mate.” Fairwind put his arm around the king and hugged him. “Everyone deserves a day off now and then.” He gave Shaw a reproachful look. “Anyway...probably a good idea to cut the tour short now. Haven't had our picnic yet, though. You're going to love my hideout. Just the thing for you. We’d invite you, Mattie, but it looks like you have some cleanup to do.”

Two dead man, and one unconscious. Obviously, he would have to add an interrogation to his to-do list for the day. As if he didn't have enough to do already. “Absolutely not. You are not going anywhere without me.”

King Anduin gave him a challenging look. “I could make it an order, spymaster.”

“Then I would absolutely guarantee that you wouldn't see me following you, Your Majesty.”

“It's always better if he's out in the open, where you can see where he's at,” Fairwind confided to the king. “He gets up to all kinds of mischief otherwise.”

“Your Majesty. Would you please do me the favor of waiting until I can locate another agent to deal with your attackers?”

King Anduin nodded, and he and Fairwind withdrew to the side of the square and sat on a bench, side by side, heads bent together, chatting like old friends.

Shaw was not pleased by Fairwind's casual liberties; his knee pressed against the king’s, there were more hugs, and as they were leaving Fairwind reached out to tuck the king's cloak more carefully around his face.

Obviously, nobody had bothered to educate Fairwind as to protocol with the royal person. Shaw gritted his teeth, thankful that Genn Greymane wasn't witnessing this staggering breach of etiquette.

The two SI:7 agents that Shaw had sent for took charge of the would-be assassins and Shaw quickly caught up with Fairwind and the king, who were strolling at a turtle's pace in the direction of the docks.

“Your Majesty…”

“Call me Anduin…”

“I hardly think that appropriate…” _Setting a bad example for Fairwind, at the very least_ …

“On my day off, Shaw?” The king gave him a gently pleading look. “I don't want to be anybody's Majesty right now.”

Shaw sighed. “As my liege wishes. Please. Anduin. If you must wander in Boralus, let me find you a couple of bodyguards…”

“I already have two,” Anduin told him placidly. “So...where are we going, Flynn?”

“Almost there,” Fairwind said mysteriously. He walked out to the edge of the wharf, put down his box and looked about to make sure he wasn't being watched. Then he jumped down off the edge. There was no splash. “Hand me down the box, will you Andy?”

Shaw winced.

Anduin handed him down the box, then, a moment later copied Fairwind’s action, disappearing with a soft thud. Shaw walked to the edge and looked down. A floating platform provided a secure foothold, bobbing on the gentle waves that lapped against the pier.

Beneath the sturdy wooden planking of the walkway, far back, dug into the earth embankment was a hollow. Over this, Fairwind spread a thick blanket which he took out of the box. A bottle of rum followed, and a basket full of food.

Fairwind and Anduin reclined on the blanket, and Shaw took up a position from which he would hopefully be able to keep an eye on all possible approaches.

“See,” said Fairwind. “He never takes a break. Always on the lookout.”

“I knew that,” the king said. “He's always looked out for me.” He gave Shaw a look of sad regret. “As he looked out for my father before me.” Anduin stretched out his arms and wedged them underneath his head. “This is nice. Really nice. And I liked the crabs. I wish I could do this sort of thing more often,” he said wistfully. “But better not to tempt fate,” he admitted, at a sharp look from Shaw.

“You should join us, Mattie,” Fairwind invited. He patted the blanket beside him. “Have you ever had fried squid the way Thelma Marie makes them? No? Well, then...you're in for a treat…”

 _I am definitely going to have a few choice words for Wyrmbane on this matter_ , Shaw grumbled. The man had to have known what was going on and did nothing to warn Shaw.

By the time the tide had crept up almost to the blanket, they had polished off all the food and half of the rum. Or, rather, Flynn had polished it off with Anduin looking on in fascinated admiration. The air was growing chill with the approach of evening.

Anduin and Fairwind parted with hugs and Fairwind’s promise to “do it again next year, only maybe without all the assassins.” Shaw escorted his king to the Sanctum of the Sages and as he was about to step through, Anduin paused and turned back to face Shaw. “He's a kind man, a good friend. You're lucky to have him.”

“Hmph.” Shaw grunted. “Fairwind in extremely small doses is a potent remedy for boredom, I'll grant you that. But...yes... and I hope you will not repeat this in his hearing...yes. He is.”

Anduin smiled and stepped through the portal.

Shaw stood for moment, thinking. The assassin that Fairwind had disabled _yes, perhaps some credit ought to be given to the man for that_ needed to be questioned, but it was likely that Renzik would want to attend to that personally. Not Shaw’s favorite part of the job, truth be told. And although there was always paperwork to do, nothing urgent had come across Shaw’s desk in several days.

All the things that competed for his attention earlier in the day suddenly seemed…trivial. Shaw’s shoulders slumped. He was tired. He couldn’t seem to focus his thoughts as he stared out over the dark waters of the harbor.

“Still got half a bottle of rum, mate.”

Shaw stiffened, but didn’t turn around. “With as much as you drank, I’m surprised you’re still on your feet.”

Fairwind gave a bark of laugher. “Still got legs and to spare, Mattie. It’s a gift.”

There was the pop of a cork, and Fairwind took a couple of swallows. He leaned in close, his rum-flavored breath tickling Shaw’s ear. “I’m told I’m very gifted in a number of areas. If you know what I mean.”

“You’re drunk, Fairwind.”

“Right you are, Mattie. Gloriously hammered. Not responsible for my own actions. Probably do something I’ll regret in the morning.”

Fairwind was standing much too close. Shaw turned his head to deliver a blistering reprimand to the ex-pirate, when Fairwind’s lips came down squarely on his own. _I shouldn’t be enjoying this_ , Shaw thought, and he was appalled as how quickly and vigorously certain parts of his anatomy disagreed.

After a long and very thorough kiss, during which time Shaw’s arms managed to get wound around Fairwind’s waist, Fairwind broke the contact. “As long as I’m going to get thrown into the Stockade for the day’s work, I might as well double down. How much of this,” he shook the bottle of rum, “would you need to drink before you’d seriously consider coming back to my place to assess my gifts?”

Shaw stepped back and eyed the ex-pirate for a moment. “I’m not really sure,” he said thoughtfully. He held out his hand. “Let’s find out, shall we?”


End file.
